


Let's hurt tonight (If love is pain)

by Twot



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, F/F, Romance, Soulmates, Stubborn Hermione Granger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:35:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28777617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twot/pseuds/Twot
Summary: When she was younger, Fleur actively searched for her soulmate. She craved for the one that would make her heart beat wild, but her soul feel calm.Her understanding of how sick the concept of soulmates was started with Gabrielle..The blonde avoided the Gryffindor like a boggart the light and the Gryffindor followed her like a niffler the gold.Hermione was detirmined to fight for a chance with her soulmate.Soulmate au where you can feel your soulmate's pain
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger
Comments: 115
Kudos: 448





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys... You may wonder, why the hell is she writing another story if she has another two running? Well i wanted to write this one for a long time and I plan to make it a two shot so it will be finished soon.  
> Okay, so the title is from the song "Let's hurt tonight" by One Republic.  
> I have used some of my fav quotes there:  
> I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night-Sardh Williams  
> Music expresses that witch cannot be put into words and cannot remain silent-Victor Hugo  
> Also I want to thank the Discord users that helped me with translating some lines to french. THANK YOU SO MUCH GUYS YOU ARE AWESOME!

.

When she was younger Fleur actively searched for her soulmate. She craved for the one that would make her heart beat wild, but her soul calm. Her soulmate and she, seemed to have made a game out of it, pinching slightly their hands as if to support their counterpart and remind them of their existence.

Her understanding of how sick the concept of soulmates was started with Gabrielle. At the age of twelve, Fleur was taking her little sister on a ride with her broom, indulging at her endless begging. The little blonde devil was giggling relentlessly enjoying the feeling of the cool air in her face and the warm caress of the sun in her skin. Meanwhile, Fleur held her little sister with a firm but gentle grip as they went higher protecting her as if she were something precious. (she was)

The blissfulness of the moment was destroyed by Gabrielle’s sudden squirming. The little girl let out a couple of mute whimpers and before Fleur could even ask what was wrong, Gabby let out a scream of absolute pain and fell from her grasp. Fleur tried to desperately reach her.

Watching her little sister convulsing in unspeakable agony, Fleur realized how perverse this “love” was. The blonde angel laid down in a fetal position asking her to make the pain stop, and Fleur could do nothing but wait for her suffering to end.

Fleur dropped to her knees crying with only a thought in her mind. **_How that could be love?_**

That moment, Fleur realized that person one her sister was destined to love was also the source of her anguish. Fleur didn’t want destiny anymore, she craved for choice.

Fleur felt a pinch in her hand.

She ignored it for the first time.

.

Gabby gets hurt throughout the next years. She is not always present, but Gabby always sends her explicit letters with how it felt and her worries about her other half.

Every time she sees her sister, she wears a painful expression and a bright smile. The smile scares her more than anything.

“Fleur, allez vite! Tu m' as promis de m'apprendre à voler avec votre balais. Allons-“ (Fleur come on! You promised me you’d teach me how to fly with your broom! Let’s-).Gabby stopped midsentence her face morphing into a mask of pain.

“Gabby, est-ce que ça va? “(Gabby are you okay?).Fleur asked worriedly. She knew her sister wasn’t.

“Oui, Fleur, ne t'inquiète pas. On peut essayer une autre fois.” (Yes Fleur don’t worry. We will try another time.) Little Gabrielle answered with a bright smile and pained eyes.

Fleur felt the need to scream watching her little sister walk away from something that made her so excited.

Fleur felt the need to scream as a torturous agony-that could only be caused by “her one”- paralyzed her body and made her momentarily seek liberation in the calmness of death. The familiar pinch was her only reassurance when the agony left as fast as it came.

Was that how her sister was feeling?

.

Gabby screamed in agony

Gabby whimpered in pain

Gabby cried in anguish

This was not fate or destiny

This was not love or affection.

This was sick.

Her hand hurt, her shoulder burned and her cheek stinged. There was a familiar pinch on her left hand too.

She ignored it.

.

Fleur arrived in Hogwarts ready to prove herself. Holding her sister’s hand, she had forgotten all about the soulmate nonsense. As expected, she was the chosen champion, representing her school. The first round involved dragons and despite her indifferent expression Fleur was worried.

She glanced at the other champions. Victor wore the same old expression of blankness he always had, while Cedric’s handsome face conveyed his fear. In that aspect-and many more- the two boys were exactly opposite.

Finally, her eyes rested upon the youngest and fourth champion. If someone saw his expression right now, they would automatically know that the boy never wanted to compete on the Tournament. The boy looked a minute away from fainting, his hands trembling as he stood by the entrance of the tent, probably tempted to flee.

Suddenly the tent opened, and a fiery brunette jumped on the boy. The girl hugged the boy with such passion that the veela could momentarily understand why people insisted they were a couple. For some reason the train of thought unsettled her.

Before she could ponder more on her source of discomfort brown eyes snapped at her and stared boldly at blue ones. Fleur was surprised to find herself unable to move under the girl’s scrutinizing gaze. Her breath was caught in her lungs while her traitorous heart seemed to be beating faster inside her chest as if to tell the something. Admittedly, there was a moment between her and the girl, or the potential for one, but Rita Skitter interrupted it before it could evolve.

.

Fleur was in pain. This time it wasn’t a product of her connection with her soulmate but a result of a dragon’s rage. She could still feel the scorching flames brutally groping her body like a perverse man, leaving burns and marks at the trails of his touch. Her right leg and her torso were covered by third degree burns.

In that moment of decadence, the familiar pinch in her left hand was almost comforting.

.

Fleur was blissfully exploring the Hogwarts library, her hands gently caressing the spines of the books. Admittedly, Hogwarts library had an impressive collection complimented by some rare books about magic. This room was her favorite part of the castle; the place held a mysterious aura the not only attracted her curiosity but also drove away her mindless admirers. (Though Fleur was sure that their retreat was due to their fear of anything remotely intellectual and the mysticism had nothing to do with it)

The blonde girl started moving towards the northern section of the library where she was informed that books about magical creatures where guarded. There, the quarter veela was (wasn’t) surprised to find a familiar brunette studying a book with the same devotion one would show to a lover. The Gryffindor didn’t even look up to see who the invader of her sacred studying rituals was, but Fleur for some reason couldn’t take her eyes off the other girl.

For some reason, her eyes found the brunettes as if they were two different poles of a magnet. The girl had beautiful eyes, the veela had to begrudgingly admit after catching the brunette’s intense gaze so many times. They were intelligent and penetrating but at the same time held a playful fire that made Fleur’s spirit light up with challenge.

Fleur shook her head, completely confused by her inexplicable admiration, and started looking at the books around her, trying to find something useful. As she affectionally brushed the covers of the books the blonde’s attention fell something peculiar. The half veela, peered at a strange tome that seemed more like a pet than a book. Its eyes watched her movements suspiciously, as if it were expecting her to attack.

Fascinated, Fleur opened the lock (despite its growls) that kept closed “the Monster book of Monsters”, hoping to uncover its secrets. However, before she could even catch a glimpse on the inside THE BOOK attacked her. It started biting and hissing relentlessly and Fleur couldn’t help but yelp in pain. (Un)Surprisingly, her screech was completely coordinated with another scream, obviously emitted by the brunette beside her.

Fleur managed to sloppily close the book and put it back where it belonged, before she turned her attention to the Gryffindor. The girl was staring at her softly, her left hand clutching the exact same spot that damn book had bitten her. Fleur prayed to every god she knew that her conclusion was false.

The two girls stared intently at each other, their gazes never leaving the other. Fleur could feel her heart beating so hard inside her chest as if it was begging for a way out. After a long staring contest with no clear winner the brunette started moving. Her eye’s never leaving Fleur’s the Gryffindor pinched herself at an oh-so-familiar spot in her left hand and Fleur couldn’t help but flinch by the sting.

“You should have rubbed softly its back before opening it” The brunette said softly glimpsing momentarily at the growling book that tried to make an escape.

Fleur left.

.

Yule was approaching and Fleur was avoiding a particular Gryffindor who seemed to be everywhere. The brunette followed her everywhere like a dog follows its tail. And even though mthe moment of soulmate recognition is considered a sacred moment in their culture, Fleur couldn’t help but despise it more and more as she watched her little sister whimpering. Fleur didn’t want any of this farce. She didn’t want this perverse form of love nor did she need it.

And despite everything, a little voice inside her traitorously whispered that this wasn’t the only reason she was rejecting so fiercely the bond. Hermione except from her “destined” was also… a girl. Fleur didn’t necessarily have a problem with homosexual relationships, but she knew very well that there were many people out there that considered it perverse. How people who preached about the sacred nature of the bonds could so easily condemn same sex soulmates was beyond her understanding, but the fact that such relationships were taboo remained.

So Fleur did something she wasn’t proud of. She fled and hid and ran.

Turns out though that Hermione didn’t mind chasing her. 

She realized that as she watched the brunette standing out of her carriage for hours, waiting for her arrival. Every single day, the Gryffindor patiently waited for her to approach. Rain or sun, storm or snow, the girl could be found sitting a respectful distance away from the carriage, secretly inviting her to come.

Fleur never did. She didn’t even let herself glance at the brunette. She only silently held her sister as she suffered. 

So, Fleur didn’t know if she was surprised or not when one night during her stroll on the grounds (an ultimate attempt to clear her thoughts) an offending hand in her shoulders snapped her out of her thoughts.

Fleur quickly turned around and drew her wand, pointing it towards the impostor. Her stance unconsciously relaxed upon looking at earthy brown hues and flushed cheeks. Fleur scrutinized the girl; she wasn’t beautiful. Or to be more precise she wasn’t beautiful in the classical way she and other veelas are. Fleur knew that the girl possessed a certain charm that made her easy or even pleasant on eyes. However, it was obvious that she still hasn’t lost her teenage awkwardness. Her from was lanky, her chest yet to be filled and her hair was a curly mess (endearing).

Her eyes however, the were always a sight to behold she decided. Some could say they were plain brown ,but if you looked closer you could see a burning passion that can only be associated with red. _Her eyes were her saving grace_ , Fleur decided. Fleur didn’t like them though, because their unyielding stare and playful sparks within, made her lose her mind and wish she would take a chance with her younger counterpart.

The blonde was brought back to reality when the brunette clumsily started searching in her bag. She sloppily got a beautiful white rose out and offered it to her.

“White. Of peace and harmony” The brunette mumbled.

Fleur looked at the flower and a small part of her wished she would take it.

_This isn’t romance. This love is sick_

“I don’t want this” Fleur blurted out.

The brunette titled her head and looked at the flower questioningly slowly lowering her hand. Quickly enough understanding filled her face.

“You don’t want the bond that exists between us” the brunette elaborated what was left unsaid.

“There is no bond between us” the blonde offered dismissively. The faster the brunette realized she didn’t believe in naïve fairy tales about destined love the better.

“Oh really, because those third-degree burns hurt like hell” Hermione snapped. The brunette took a shaky deep breath and continued more softly “I don’t expect feelings to magically appear, or that you will necessarily have them because of the bond. All I want is a fighting chance.”

“Don’t you get it? This thing we have isn’t romance. It is a sick joke orchestrated by someone with a bad sense of humor. Love doesn’t hurt. It shouldn’t be that way.” Fleur sapped in frustration.

“Shared pain is half pain” Hermione croaked.

“Yeah, tell that to my baby sister.” Fleur mumbled before yelping at a stinging sensation. The blonde’s eyes examined the brunette who seemed to mindlessly clutch the rose with such a force that the thorns stuck deep into skin and drew blood.

“Would you stop that? This is exactly what I mean” Fleur hissed.

Hermione looked at her in utter surprised and then at her bloody palm and unconsciously dropped the rose.

“I-I am sorry” Hermione said truthfully.

“I don’t believe in this kind of love” Fleur said definitely.

“The fact that someone decided that we are for each other doesn’t mean it will be easy. Love needs effort and trust and understanding. I don’t know if we can make something good out of us but we could try when we are both ready.”

“Hermione” Fleur uttered for the first time her name- it rolled well in her togue. “I will never be ready, just move on. Many people live happily without their soulmates. My parents do” Fleur said tiredly.

“I-I will prove to you I am worth a fighting chance” Hermione mumble silently as the blonde left.

That night Fleur’s hand didn’t tingle.

.

Hermione took Fleur’s breath away in Yule Ball.

Viktor was a good choice.

Fleur was happy for her (no darling you are not)

.

Cedric died

Cho screamed in pain.

.

Cedric’s death awakened a righteous fire inside her urging her to fight. The blonde veela craved to fight against those who killed her friend and would make her little sister suffer if given the chance. So Fleur stayed in England where she could actively help the cause. (Where Hermione was). Gringotts’ job offer only made Fleur’s decision easier.

After the Triwizard Tournament Fleur hugged her mother tightly and kissed goodbye her beloved sister. Gabby looked at her with sparkling eyes and a bright smile and whispered to her “You are like me now”

Fleur looked at her sister questioningly and offered her a last hug.

In her new job Fleur met Bill Weasley. Bill was a handsome and charming man, intelligent in ways that made her want to get to know him better. And did she get to know him better…. _What if her hand stung?_

Bill as the one who vouched for her to the Order and soon, she became an official member. As a cursebreaker and a veela she was able to easily extract information from the people she operated with. Her angelic appearance made her come off as naïve or simple minded to strangers, and for once she felt grateful for her creature heritage.

However, her hand kept being in pain throughout the year. The stinging scratch was so insistent and precise that Fleur could only guess that it was self-inflicted. The thought that this could be Hermione’s way of getting revenge made Fleur become more and more bold with her relationship with Bill.

One day the twinge in her hand became too much to ignore. Fleur observed her hand and tried to concentrate on the feeling hoping to figure out what the hell Hermione was doing. Slowly, she realized that the sting had a pattern, it began on a certain part of her arm and then followed a specific itinerary, almost as if…

Fleur stood up abruptly and search around for a pen. When she finally spotted one, she mentally patted herself and tried to follow the path the pain mapped. Fleur stared horrified at what was now written on her hand.

**I will learn my position in magical society**

Fleur immediately realized that this was no self-inflicted injury. (she felt same for thinking otherwise). Talking with Bill she was enraged to learn that this was a punishment to the students who disobeyed the new Headmistress’ orders. With Dumbledore being wanted by the Ministry of Magic, Umbridge’s grasp over the students was tight and tough.

Despite everything, every time a new message was imprinted in Hermione’s skin, Fleur wanted to scream and shout and protest and surg into that damn castle and take the witch away.

**I must not talk back to my betters**

**I must not lie**

**I must stop having false hopes**

_I must do something_

_._

Fleur realized something was wrong by a sharp ache in her ribs, as if someone hit her there with all their might. Fleur was alone and unharmed in this room, so the only other option was that Hermione was in trouble.

Her suspicions were confirmed a moment later when Bill floed in her home with a worried expression.

“Fleur, we have a situation”

.

Red.

It was all Fleur could see, not that her senses were perfectly functional at the moment. The only think she could think of was the unbearable agony she was feeling while Hermione was laying bloody in the ground her body convulsing and trembling as if the girl were possessed.

Her thoughts revolved around pain.

Her thought revolved around Hermione

_This wasn’t love, this was sick_

_._

“How are you?” Fleur asked.

“I have been worse” Hermione replied.

“I know”

“Sorry you had to grow through that”

Fleur left

.

Fleur met the brunette again during summer break. Hermione had admittedly grown this year. She now carried herself with more confidence, her gaze unrelenting and intense as always. (These days it wasn’t only the brunette’s gaze that left her breathless-maybe sleepless too)

Fleur had temporarily moved in Grimmauld’s Place, after Bill’s insistence that this would help her become more connected with the other members of the Order. The money she saved from rent was a good bonus too. Of course, she had not predicted the brunette’s arrival. The blond avoided the Gryffindor like a boggart the light and the Gryffindor followed like a niffler the gold.

“You know, it would be easier if we at least were on friendly terms” Hermione pointed out one night.

“We are on friendly terms” The blonde dismissed the brunette’s remark.

“If this is your friendly, remind me to never piss you off” Hermione snarked back.

The blond snorted. Fleur started to tense when the brunette came closer and made herself comfortable in a chair near her. They both silently admired the stars. Traitorously, Fleur’s eyes left the night sky and glided into the Gryffindor’s form. Her eyes were brighter than ever before finding their rightful face near the lonely moon. They still held a that challenging fire that made Fleur stare when they first met but now they were dark around the edges. The brunette now possessed the beauty that few only people could claim to have acquired as theirs; she possessed the charm of those who have had the chance to encounter death.

Because despite what they have told to everyone, Fleur knew better than anyone else that Hermione’s heart momentarily had stopped beating. She knew because she felt hers slowing down and then pumping furiously in as if to protest and to call the brunette to fight.

Fleur’s eyes fell to the scar in the brunette’s torso. For some reason she could feel her entire being protesting to its presence there and then clenching at the reminder of the day.

“Why are you up?” Fleur asked, directing her gaze back to the moon.

“Nightmares”

Fleur flinched at the response “The room is too dark?” she clumsily asked.

Hermione turned to look at her and smiled slowly. “I have loved the stars too passionately too be fearful of the darkness that compliments them”

Breathing gets harder these days due to Britain weather. (who are you trying to fool?)

“When I was younger my father would take me in his embrace and point out the constellations, telling me the stories of those the gods deemed worthy of being eternally glorified in the velvet sky. Do you know the myths Fleur?”

Fleur could only shake her head to express her ignorance.

That night Hermione taught her about the stars.

.

“Bill”

“Fleur?” the oldest Weasley asked sleepily.

“I want you”

.

It became a ritual; Hermione would come in the dead of the night in the library where she would vividly recount her the myths. The brunette spoke with such a passion that made Fleur watch in wonder.

“Why Greek gods are so cruel?” Fleur asked exasperatedly.

“Because they reflected humans.” Hermione smiled.

.

“Where do you think you will be in ten years from now?” Hermione wondered.

“I don’t know, never thought of it” Fleur answered, “What about you?”

“I can only hope that I will still be alive” Hermione replied morbidly.

Fleur didn’t like that train of thought. “I know though!”

The Gryffindor raised an eyebrow

“In a library!” the blonde said sarcastically, reminding the brunette of her studying habits.

“I mean can you blame me? A room without books is like a body without soul”

Fleur could only stifle a fond smile.

.

“Come on Delacour! Dance with me” Hermione challenged her.

“Why would I do that?” Fleur huffed at the soft musing played at the background.

“Well, you know what they say, whatever can’t be said is singed and whatever can’t be singed is danced” Hermione breathed out and Fleur almost forgot what she wanted to say.

Fleur didn’t want to dance because even she didn’t know what was that she was reticent to sing and adamant not to speak of. Hermione seemed to understand that and made herself comfortable in the chair.

“Why do you despise the bond?” Hermione asked.

Fleur was surprised by the question. She didn’t think the brunette would be brave enough to bring the matter up any time soon. At least she was not. However, maybe she shouldn’t be so surprised since the Gryffindor proved relentlessly that bravery wasn’t necessarily something loud and obvious. In some people courage came in the form of an indigent small fire deep in their hearts that encouraged them to keep going. Like the brunette who didn’t seek trouble but was ready to get down and dirty if the situation demanded it.

“I don’t like the thought of being in the mercy of someone. I feel sick thinking that I won’t be able to choose who I love. Merlin’s beard, even the concept is so sick. There is nothing romantic about pain” Fleur frustratedly explained.

“I don’t think we are destiny’s puppets. I think that magic is directing us to the one we are most compatible with. It is up to us if we will succeed or fail. And as for the pain, I think soulmates were designed that way for comfort and deeper understanding of one’s struggles, maybe even protection in dangerous times.” Hermione whispered

Fleur scoffed, protection and understanding she says. “Tell that to my seven-year-old sister who is in agony every single day”

“Oh Fleur-“

Fleur stormed out before Hermione could finish her sentence.

.

“Gabby! Comment ça va? Tu as grandi tellement!” (Gabby! How are you? You grew up so much) Fleur hugged her sister tightly

“Fleur? Tu m’as manqué! Tu dois m’écrire plus souvent!” (Fleur! I missed you! You must owl me more!). Gabrielle rightfully complained.

“Je promets que je le ferai “(I promise I will). The older girl said and ruffled the younger’s hair affectionately.

“Viens, laisse-moi te montrer tous les tours du vol que j’ai appris “(Come on let me show you all the flying tricks I have learned) Gabrielle dragged her excitedly towards the field.

“D’accord, d’accord, attend juste un moment ma feu, laisse-moi dis bonjours a maman et papa” (Okay, okay, just hold on a moment firecracker to say hi to mum and dad)

Gabrielle huffed but complied.

.

“Fleur, je ne comprends pas, qu’est-ce qui te retient en Angleterre?” (Fleur I don’t understand, what keeps you in England) Her mum asked again

“Maman, je vous avais expliqué mille fois” (Mom I explained you one thousand times) Fleur huffed angrily.

“Explain it to me once more!” Apolline begged

‘’Depuis la mort de Cédric-‘’ (Since Cedric died-) An anguished cry interrupted the quarter veela. Both Apolline and Fleur rushed towards the source of the sound. The two women ended up in Gabrielle’s room who was trashing and trembling.

The women hugged the younger girl trying to south her suffering.

“Cela arrive-t-il encore souvent?” (Does this still happen often?) the younger whispered

“Oui. Parfois plus, parfois moins. Je suis peur pour l’âme sœur de Gabby” (Yes. Sometimes more, sometimes less. I am scared for Gabby’s soulmate). Apolline confessed.

Watching her sister’s little broken form and hearing her muffled cries, the concept of soulmates never seemed more repulsive.

This isn’t love

.

“Bill!” Fleur exclaimed in surprise.

“Fleur, I wanted to tell you something” The man worriedly approached her.

“Bill I had a rough night…” Fleur trailed of hoping that Bill would understand her (he usually did)

“No, Fleur, please let me tell you this. I know it might seem to early, but war is inevitable, and I realized…” Bill pause and stared at her eyes, his hand tightly holding hers. “I realized that we might die any moment and that we must cherish the ones that makes us most happy. Right now, you are one of those people. So, I decided to take a leap of faith. Fleur Isabelle Delacour, would you marry me? I can’t offer you the future but-“

Fleur kissed him 

“-I can offer you the present.” Bill finished out of breath.

“Yes” Fleur replied.

Her hand stung

.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING! TORTURE! VIOLENCE!   
> If you are triggered please read until fleur's wedding. 
> 
> I always found wonderful how we don’t have to wait a single moment to improve our world-tayari jones  
> Our life shrinks and expands in proportion to our courage- Anais Nin  
> A kiss is a sweet trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous-Ingrid Bergman

Bill immediately announced the marriage to his family and despite Molly’s condescending tone, Ginny’s hateful glares and the twins’ crude remarks the young couple was determined to complete the rituals of love.

Fleur would not be deterred; Molly’s scratching comments about disgracing the sacred bond of soulmates and Ginny’s mumbled assertions about Fleur’s loose morals weren’t enough to make her resolve crumble. Fleur realized that it was unlikely that she would be accepted in the Weasley clan any time soon, but Bill was a good man who loved her, and she was willing to build a life with him. Besides both Arthur and Charlie offered their support and blessings to the couple, doing their best to deescalate the situation. (The twins supported the side that could serve their amusement better.)

And despite the fact that Fleur could proudly declare that she fearlessly faced the force of nature called Molly Weasley, she couldn’t handle looking at betrayed brown orbs. For some reason, the Gryffindor’s disappointment was so potent that Fleur’s heart struggled to come in terms with it. 

The next morning after Bill’s proposal the young couple announced to the family their engagement. While Bill was happily telling the Weasley clan about their decision, Fleur’s eyes meticulously avoided a brunette’s questioning gaze. And if the quarter veela wanted to be honest, she would have to confess that in that room, even though she was surrounded by vibrant red, all she could see was earthy, messy brown hues.

Fleur logically knew that she owed no explanation to anyone about her decision. That didn’t stop her from wishing that she had warned the brunette of what was to come.

As a result, the relationship between the two soulmates returned to how it was a month ago, when Hermione first arrived at Grimmauld’s Place. Only that time the brunette seemed to be avoiding the blonde as much as the blonde avoided the brunette.

Despite how things evolved, Fleur was engulfed by unbearable sadness every time the brunette avoided her gaze. The blonde had her beliefs and made her choices, but she didn’t wish to hurt the brilliant girl. Nevertheless, the blonde could not deny that through midnight conversations and muffled laughs she became fond of the girl; fonder than she could ever hope to be for her “soulmate”. The brunette was fiery in ways that awoke a playful challenge in the blonde’s heart while their intellectual battled kept the usually arrogant veela to her toes.

(Un)surprisingly, the veela returned every night to the window where her relationship with the brunette became something more than a forced bond. Fleur reasoned that she always found great company in books so her return to the library was inevitable, especially when living in hostile grounds. (She never mentioned that their company became duller without the brunette’s pointed remarks or witty comebacks)

One night Fleur was gazing at the stars, reminiscing the stories a certain someone told her about immortalized heroism and endless greed. When the blonde heard familiar footsteps and an even more familiar presence gliding into the seat next to her, she did her best to stifle a fond smile. The two girls admired in silence the brightness of the stars, both reticent to destroy the serenity of the moment.

True to her nature, the Gryffindor was the first who dared to speak. What she said was completely unexpected “If we survive this war, what do you wish to do?”

The blonde was completely astonished by the question, expecting something more relevant to their predicament. Quickly reclaiming her composure, Fleur answered as truthfully as she could “I would hope to expand my curse-breaking experience. Maybe travel around the world; Greece, Egypt, Peru, Easter Island, they are all a dream come true for budding curse -breakers.”

The brunette hummed “Sounds like a good plan”

“What about you?” The blonde wondered.

“What I want to do if I survive?” Hermione asked.

“Yes” the quarter veela scowled- she didn’t like the if in the sentence.

“Wow, that’s a big if” the brunette chuckled.

“Don’t joke about these things” Fleur scolded.

“And why not?” the brunette challenged.

“Because there is nothing funny with death” the blonde replied.

“Well, I think it is funny that we try so hard to win death and meanwhile we lose the point”

“And what’s the point, since you have it all figured out?” the blonde breathed out.

“To win life of course” the brunette offered her a small smile and Fleur momentarily thought that its brightness deserved to be immortalized in the skies too.

“And how do you plan on winning life?” the French asked somewhat breathless.

“Magical Brittan is messed up. I want to make things right” Hermione offered no further explanation.

“So, planning to be Minister of Magic?” Fleur asked, not sure if she was joking or serious. She certainly didn’t think that the job would be beyond the brunette’s capabilities when time came, but then again British weren’t renown for their ability to elect the right leaders.

The brunette let out a boisterous laugh and the blonde could understand why Bill’s brother(s) was so enamored with the girl. “I really appreciate your vote of confidence on my abilities Fleur, but I don’t really have such plans”

“What then?” the blonde prompted.

The brunette stopped staring at the stars and turned to look at her. Their eyes met and warm brown embraced cold blue with such tenderness that the quarter veela felt chills running through her spine. Not many gazes have caressed her figure so gently and the blonde was at loss.

“I always found wonderful how we don’t have to wait a single moment to improve our world” the brunette whispered.

It wasn’t the first time the younger girl left the veela speechless, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. That moment Fleur looked stared at heavens and prayed with every part of her soul that Hermione would never let the fire within burn out. That moment Fleur wished upon the knowing stars that the hero inside the girl would never perish in the hands of all those demons that wished to bring her bright spirit down. That moment… the thirteen year old girl inside her was resurrected and in all her naïve innocence and helpless romanticism she could finally imagine a common future with the brunette.

“I am not giving up hope you know” The brunette brought her out of her thoughts.

“Huh?” Fleur eloquently answered.

“I am not giving up hope for a fighting chance with you” Hermione explained.

“Hermione, I am getting married…” Fleur tried to explain.

“Yes, you are getting married. Only, Bill doesn’t seem to be any part of your future. When he becomes, I will stop trying” The brunette said and for the first time she left the room first.

Fleur was left there staring at the girl’s retreating form.

.

This wasn’t the last time she and the brunette had a heartfelt conversation. The two women met nightly exchanging laughs and stories, exposing their truest selves. The blonde knew she should have discouraged such exchanges since it gave false hopes to the brunette, but she was unwilling to do so. The veela had never felt so understood in her life and she was unwilling to let go.

The blonde had been clear with her intentions to marry Bill, but the brunette just smiled serenely, completely undeterred. (The blonde never saw the pained edges in the younger girl’s eyes).

Sometimes, the two women didn’t talk. They just read silently their books relishing each other’s company. Fleur noted that the silence between them was rarely uncomfortable or awkward; somehow, she and the brunette could communicate without talking. Fleur didn’t know if it was the bond working or the unique experience of chemistry between two separate beings. She hoped that their relationship was an abstract of their harbor and not an illusion created by the match makers of the universe.

Fleur flipped the next page of her book and stole a glance towards her counterpart who was smiling at her book.

“Why are you smiling?” Fleur couldn’t help but ask.

“Because I read something interesting” Hermione replied absentmindedly.

“And what did you read?” The blonde huffed at the brunette.

“Poetry” Hermione replied.

“Can’t you be a little more specific?” The blonde kicked the brunette playfully.

“I wouldn’t want you to have a heart attack” The Gryffindor smirked.

“Try me” The veela challenged, wanting to wipe the smirk from the girl’s face.

Hermione stared intently in her eyes and Fleur shallowed.

“Sweet mother, I cannot think –

slender Aphrodite has overcome me

with longing for a girl.”

The Gryffindor boldly took a step closer, her eyes never leaving Fleur’s.

“and on a soft bed, delicate

you would let loose your longing”

Hermione had stopped reading from the book and recited the poem from heart, worshipping the words written for the one and only muse. Fleur was suddenly getting warmer. She had never met a gaze so intense. Fleur felt bare in front of golden orbs who wanted to devour her soul. And despite the suggestive undertones of the girl’s words, Fleur was only touched by the gentleness of her stare which caressed her with the same affection the sun yearns touch the moon, its eternal lover.

Fleur’s heart kept pumping in her chest like a prisoner who wanted to escape his lonely prison. Blood rushed not only in her face, forming an impressive blush, but also in more south regions of her body.

“Hermione you can’t say things like that. I am getting married.” Fleur tried to reason.

“soft as she is  
she has almost  
killed me with  
love for that boy” Hermione finished with a knowing smile.

“You wanted to learn what I am reading.” Hermione replied nonchalky “Satisfied?”

The infuriating smirk was back again, but Fleur knew to pick her battles. “Yes. Would I happen to know the poet?”

“I don’t think so. Her name is Sapho.” Hermione answered absentmindedly, her attention has thankfully returned to the sky. Fleur was suddenly thankful with Hermione’s fascination with the stars since it bought her time to recompose herself.

“H-Her?” Fleur croaked

“Yes, she is a woman. Is that a problem?” The Gryffindor challenged.

“No, of course no” Fleur was quick to reply.

The silence that engulfed them was no longer comfortable. Surprisingly, Fleur broke it first. “Do you…” Fleur started but then thought better or if. “This is an interesting choice. Why do you like it so much?”

“Do you remember when I told you that what can’t be said is singed?” Hermione asked.

“And what can’t be singed is danced” Fleur completed.

“Well, what can’t be danced becomes poetry” Hermione said.

“So what is this unholy secret that can’t be danced?” Fleur asked boldly. She internally knew. Of course, she knew. How could she not when Hermione looked at her like that, talked to her like that. She just… wanted to hear it to make it more real.

“I don’t think such notions are for your ears to hear” Hermione declared somewhat accusingly.

“Enlighten me why” Fleur didn’t back down this time.

“Because you are too scared of them” Hermione said.

“I don’t have a problem with homosexual relationships” Fleur indignantly defended herself “Love is love”

“Are you trying to tell me that if it was Bill with whom you shared this connection, you would reject him with the same vigor you reject me?”

“I told you about Gabrielle-“ Fleur relied angrily.

“Answer my question” Hermione pressed on.

Fleur wanted to scream yes, that she would have treated Bill the same way. That it wouldn’t matter. However, Fleur knew in her heart that even though she would reject the bond regardless the gender of her soulmate, if Bill was her soulmate, she would have handled the situation differently. Fleur knew that behind her cold persona and bravado there was this little girl who was tired of being discriminated for her blood, for her gender, for her appearance. She didn’t want to be once again an oddity.

“See?” the Gryffindor croaked.

Fleur wanted to apologize but words wouldn’t leave her mouth.

“Don’t worry, I know where you are coming from. You want for once to fit in. I get it. I don’t plan, however, to mutilate my heart for it to fit in the society’s standards. You shouldn’t either.” Hermione whispered

“Fleur, I know you think what we have is sick and-and I can understand where your resentment comes from, but please… please don’t repress your self in favor of satisfying the social norms! Our life shrinks and expands in proportion to our courage, Fleur!” Hermione half-shouted.

“I appreciate your concern Hermione, but I don’t feel that was towards women” Fleur defended herself.

Hermione looked like someone had just slapped her. She stared at Fleur searching for something she obviously did not find and then turned her gaze to the ground. Fleur whished Fleur wished she could open her mouth to recall her statement, or at least adopt a softer expression rather than her mask of absolute coldness she wore, but she felt like she no longer was master of her own body.

After an endless silence Hermione found the secrets of the universe in her shoes and nodded to herself. She looked back at Fleur and said with offensive red eyes that tainted her beautiful brown orbs. “I understand” and left the room.

Hermione never saw Fleur pulsing with regret.

Fleur never saw Hermione wiping her tears.

.

The next time Fleur met Hermione was in the Battlefield. The order was urging towards the Hogwarts trying to evacuate the castle. Older students fought with all their might against the death eaters who were targeting the muggleborns.

In the center of it all was a familiar fiery Gryffindor who fought for her life. Their gazes met only for a moment before the rage of the battle took over and separated them indefinitely.

.

Fleur could no longer separate her pain from Hermione’s

Too many injuries and burns marred her body for that.

Fleur naively have thought that after the battle of the Department of Mysteries she was immune to pain. Oh, what a fool she was. For she was wrong.

Skin crawling agony brought her to her knees.

Fleur started struggling against the enemy who teared her apart.

It took her more than a few minutes to realize that no one had attacked her.

.

“What were you thinking, you mindless girl?” Molly Weasley demanded.

“It was a reflex Mrs Weasley” Hermione croaked.

“Oh dear, you don’t know how much you scared us” Molly stroked the girl’s hair.

“I am sorry?” Hermione replied sheepishly, her face morphing into a mask of pain as she readjusted herself.

Fleur flinched.

“Hermione dear, I am forever grateful for what you did for Bill, but please be more careful. I love you as if you were my daughter.”

“Yes Mrs Weasley” Hermione smiled.

“Oi Granger-danger, you rock!” Fred said

“Fred, don’t insult her, she rode on a werewolf’s back. She is at least the awesomest of awesome” George continued

“You are right George. She is my knight in shining armor!” Fred exclaimed

“Wait Fred, does that make Bill the damsel in distress?” George wondered.

The room roared in laughter.

.

“Why did you do it?” Fleur asked

“Reflexes. Besides, I like Bill” Hermione replied monotonously.

“--"

“Don’t look at me like that Fleur! I don’t seek some sort of poetic tragic death! It just happened” The Gryffindor said frustratedly.

“Thank you”

.

Her knuckles hurt.

She was sure the brunette had broken a couple of bones.

She didn’t dare to approach her when she arrived on Grimmauld’s place later that day. 

.

Her family wasn’t happy with her marriage. Nevertheless, they were all there to support her and walk her to the wedding aisle. Fleur didn’t mind her mother’s disapproving glances or her father’s worried stares; she was determined to defend her choice. What she couldn’t handle, was Gabrielle’s disappointed eyes.

Despite her disappointment though, Gabby hugged her fiercely and tried to project her excitement on Fleur. The little blonde demon stumbled into the Weasley house like a ball of energy charming everyone. Gabby wasn’t charmed by all though. In fact, she didn’t particularly like Bill, preferring the company of the twins. Unexpectedly, the vibrant blonde was found mostly in the upper rooms of the house and Fleur was a little scared to fathom what distracted her sister from Quidditch.

Later Fleur would realize a familiar brunette was responsible for her sister’s reluctance to abandon the house. Fleur and Apolline were frantically searching for the young girl for the dress fitting when they finally found where the demon spent most of her time. Or more precisely with who.

Gabrielle’s giggles echoed into the hallways loud and clear. The two women soundlessly approached the room where the melodious laughter came from. They slowly opened the door and watched in wonder the picture taking place in front of them.

Gabrielle was jumping up and down on the bed, relishing in a game of tag with a silver otter. As the duo danced around familiar brown eyes made sure the younger girl was safe.

“Hermione catch moi” Gabby shouted in half French, half English and thankfully, the Gryffindor’s reflexes where fast enough to catch the little blonde, securing her in her embrace. Fleur could barely contain her smile.

“Fleur! Mamman!” The little girl cried out when she finally took notice of the pair. The brunette turned around and faced the pair, her face noticeably paling in Fleur’s presence.

“Mamman, c’est Hermione. Peux-t'on la garder, si'il vous plaît?!” (Mum this is Hermione) Gabby, ever the gentlewoman introduced her. (I like her! Can we keep her?)

“Gabrielle!” Her mother chastised. “Hello Hermione, we haven’t had the chance to properly talk so far” Her mother kissed the brunette’s cheeks.

“I understand, the wedding preparations must be crazy” Hermione said softly.

“Yes, they are keeping us busy” Apolline agreed.

“So this is where you have been hiding, eh?” Her mother glanced at Gabby.

“Oui, Hermione est tres interesante. Elle ma faire rire” (Yes! Hermione is really interesting! She makes me laugh) The young blonde exclaimed adoringly.

“Is that so?” Fleur smiled at Hermione. The brunette averted her gaze and shuffled her feet.

“Right. So dress fitting? I will leave you to it” The brunette mumbled offering a last polite smile to Apolline and stormed out of the room.

“I like her” Apolline decided.

_I like her too_

.

Hermione cornered in her room two hours before her wedding. Admittedly, the brunette looked gorgeous in that red dress. Fleur could feel her eyes gliding into the brunette’s figure as if to memorize an unholy sight that promised to give her sleepless nights- from the nightmares of course.

“You look beautiful” Hermione said softly, as her eyes gently examined the blonde’s form. Fleur shivered at the inspection of such an intense stare.

“Thank you. You look amazing too” Fleur mumbled, surprisingly intimidated by the other girl’s presence.

“The stars shine bright tonight. Lady Artemis is more beautiful than ever.”

For some reason Fleur wanted to flinch on the brunette’s association of her wedding with the stars. The blonde had connected the brunette with fond memories of myths and constellations. Fleur shallowed “Yes, they are gorgeous” and then continued lamely “The weather is wonderful too”

The brunette couldn’t help but release a humorless chuckle “So we are going to do the weather talk now?”

“It is a nice weather” Fleur couldn’t keep her damn mouth closed.

The Gryffindor, true to her nature boldly came closer. For every step Hermione took forward Fleur moved a step backward, until she could no longer escape. The blonde was trapped between the brunette and a wall. Blue eyes were now prisoners of earthy hues. (not that they were resisting)

“Yes it is” Hermione breathed out and Fleur had to summon all her self-control not to close her eyes and relish on the brunette’s warmth. The Gryffindor slowly came closer until their faces were only a couple of inches apart. An awfully familiar warmth spread on her body as their lips almost touched. Fleur knew that if the brunette tried to kiss her, she wouldn’t resist. She would regret it later, but now she didn’t have it in her to reject the affectionate gesture.

The brunette gazed intently in her eyes and as if understanding what was going through in Fleur’s mind, she softly kissed the blonde. On the cheek. Lips soft as feather caressed her cheek and the gesture made Fleur more breathless than any other kiss had made her before. Then a sweet tickling invaded her sensation as the brunette whispered “A kiss is a sweet trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous”

Hermione finally put a distance to them and let Fleur reclaim her composure.

“Do you love him?” Hermione asked.

“I do” Fleur declared confidently. She didn’t know many things, but she was sure about that.

“Is he your future?” Hermione questioned softly.

Fleur thought hard. She thought of Bill and his laugh and the way he made her feel.

Then her memories teleported her too all the laughs and the stories she had shared with the brunette, to all the tears they shed and the smiles they exchanged. Fleur could finally understand why the matchmakers of the universe assigned them together.

Finally, her thoughts run back to all the timed she held Gabrielle in her hands praying for her sister’s suffering to end.

“Yes, he is” Fleur decided. “Hermione-“ the blonde started

“Go back to your wedding Fleur the visitors will be waiting” Hermione cut her off.

The quarter veela nodded and turned away.

Once again she never saw the tears in the brunettes eyes.

We can’t blame her though. She had her own tears to take care this time.

The last thing she heard the brunette saying was a breathless prayer. “Let her have a beautiful life”

.

“What are you drinking there ‘Mione?”

“Something for the pain”

“Oi your hand still hurting?”

“Not anymore Ronald”

The brunette took a large gulp from her flask.

.

Fleur married Bill in a beautiful ceremony.

They laughed and smile and danced and kissed.

Hermione danced with many people.

She smiled at those she was the closest.

And offered her kisses to only one.

.

The golden trio had disappeared for more than 3 months. Everyone was worried sick about the whereabouts of the three reckless teens. The last time anyone saw them was during their little adventure in the Ministry of Magic. As for Fleur, her thought often wandered back to the female Gryffindor who had tried to court her so insistently. (and almost successfully)

Fleur knew something went tremendously wrong. She couldn’t explain the feeling, but it unsettled her. It was like… the bond was trying to warn her, to tell her something, but she only heard pale echoes of what needed to be heard.

A couple of times the blonde could swear she could almost feel the brunette’s pain, but at the same time she couldn’t. It made her want to draw her wand, find the brunette and drag her back to safety.

For years she had hated the bond, but now that it was muted… Nothing ever felt more wrong. It was like she had committed an perverse act, becoming a criminal of thought and blood. The ignorance about the brunette’s well being made her sick to her bones. Only now did she understand what her sister once was trying to explain her.

.

_“Pensez-y juste Gabrielle, l'amour n'est pas la douleur. Identifier nos âmes sœurs à travers une expérience douloureuse est malade! N'as-tu jamais souhaité que ta souffrance cesse? Ce lien te déchire” (Just think of it Gabrielle, love is not pain. Identifying our soulmates through painful experience is sick! Don’t you ever wish for your suffering to stop? This bond tears you apart.) The older sister cried desperately. Today Gabrielle had one of her worst episodes ever and indescribable resentment for the bond overloaded her senses._

_“Non, Fleur, je préfère souffrir avec eux plutôt que de ne pas savoir comment ils vont”(No, Fleur, I prefer suffering the pain with them rather that not knowing how they are.) Her sister tried to explain her the concept like she was the one talking to a ten-year-old._

Fleur couldn’t grasp what her sister was telling her then. She thought she would never really understand it.

Little did she know.

.

Fleur was gasping for air. Hermione was in pain. She was in so much pain, but Fleur felt nothing. The blonde wanted to scream and to thrash and to protest to the higher powers who finally granted her, her naïve wish.

Every particle of her body could sense the unbearable pain the brunette was in. It was a tantalizingly cold feeling that crawled in her spine and spread all over her body demanding she submitted. Everything was muted though.

Fleur could sense the Gryffindor’s suffering, condemned to helplessly wait for Hermione’s torturers to show mercy. Fleur closed her eyes and tears run in her cheeks as she was suddenly teleported into a dark room.

The blond stared horrified as the young girl was pinned to the ground by the notorious death-eater. “Hermione” Fleur breathed, and the brunette’s eyes turned to the spot where Fleur stood, as if she could feel her presence.

“Little mudblood tell me where you found that sword” Bellatrix Lestrange demanded with that child like voice of hers. Her hand was tightening dangerously in Hermione’s throat-Fleur could almost feel it- as she interrogated the Gryffindor.

Fleur struggled to move, but an invisible force stopped her. The veela straggled against her invisible biddings, thrashing, and trembling as if she was a feral animal.

“I-I don’t know we just found it” Hermione gasped for air.

“Wrong response Muddy! Crucio”

Fleur would never forget Hermione’s anguished cries. Her body was quivering relentlessly while her eyes conveyed an agony that made death seem like a liberation. The blond kicked and fought screaming fruitlessly Hermione’s name until her voice couldn’t produce any sound. And despite her cries and her prayers for help no one came, and the horrific scene was repeated, every time the dark which finding a worse punishment.

Fleur sobbed as she slumped against her invisible biddings.

.

“Where is Order’s base, Muddy?”

“I don’t know”

“Crucio”

Hermione whimpered

Fleur screamed

.

“Where did you find the sword?”

“I don’t know”

“Oh muddy, you got used to Crucio so fast! I am proud of you! You are my best pet so far. Let’s teach you some new tricks though. Sectusempra!”

Hermione’s body became a morbid canvas of red. As Fleur felt a cold sensation mocking her body for her inability to share the pain with her soulmate the blonde never felt more disgusted in her life.

.

There was only red. Fleur didn’t know any other color. Fleur didn’t know a more disgusting color as Hermione’s body was repeatedly ravaged and healed only to be torn apart again. Fleur had never felt such a burning deep hate against a human being. Nothing compared to the boiling rage she felt against the murderous death eater.

Every fiber of her body was demanding she took the brunette’s pain away, but there she stood useless, watching her other half being destroyed. There wasn’t a single part of Hermione’s body that has remained unharmed.

“Now listen to me pet, tell me what I want, and I will finally end your pain. Just tell comply like the good little pet you are” The death eater roared.

Part of Fleur was hoping that the brunette would comply, and the Gryffindor’s suffering would finally end. For once her irrational hopes were heard when the brunette croaked “Okay”

The death eater excitedly leaned in “Tell me where Harry Potter is”

The brunette summoned all her might and spit on the Death eater’s face. Fleur didn’t know whether to be overflowed with pride or sadness for the Gryffindor’s courage/stupidity.

Lestrange’s face morphed into a mask of absolute anger and Fleur feared of what was to come. “The mudblood still ignores her position! Very well, I will be your teacher.”

The crazy witch summoned a knife with which she tore apart Hermione’s sleeve, not caring that she scratched flesh too. The brunette started to tremble and fight against the death eater’s firm hold but Lestrange was relentless. “This will remain forever there. Whatever happens a reminder of what you are will be craved on your skin”

Fleur immediately understood what was happening when she saw the fark which carve the first letter in Hermione’s skin. The blonde fought ferally against the biddings once again repeating Hermione’s name like a prayer. The veela growled, kicked and tossed hoping to overpower the invisible enemy. Only when Bellatrix had engraved the last letter of that fool word in Hermione’s skin Fleur was released from her biddings.

The blonde stumbled and fell due to her momentum but didn’t lost time crawling towards her sobbing soulmate. “Hermione” she whispered, and Fleur was sure the Gryffindor knew she was there. However, when the blonde made a movement to interlace their fingers the invisible force threw her away from Hermione and back to Shell Cottage.

.

It took a few moments for Fleur to regain her senses. Or maybe hours. She wasn’t really sure. Fleur frantically stood up and run towards her shared room with Bill in order to inform him of the danger the teens were facing. However, before she could even open the door, she heard sounds form the kitchen.

Fleur stumbled down the stairs with her wand in hand, ready for battle. However, what she heard weren’t sounds of battle, but soulless, anguished cries. As she got closer the agonizing sobs became clearer.

“Hermione!” was all Harry Potter seemed to be able to say.

Fleur got out of the house only to find Harry and Ron limping towards the cottage with a bleeding elf and other two teens. _Where was Hermione?_

Fleur had apparently voiced loudly her question.

“She stayed to help us escape” Harry whispered brokenly, staring absently at a golden cup he held in his hand.

“She stayed for this damn thing” Ron cried out staring haltingly the cup.

Fleur could feel something inside her breaking. She wanted to mirthlessly laugh because apparently wishes in fallen stars came true. She didn’t feel the bond anymore.

Fleur fell to her knees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys... so this is it... This is what I planned from the begining for the story... If i decide to make it a three shot will depend on whether or not I pass my exams and how many death treats I will recieve from fans! I always appreciate your feedback!( Am a needy writer after all!) Don't shoot the writer...!  
> If you need any explanations about the ending please comment!  
> Ps:sorry for the comments from the 1st chapter I havent responded yet...right now i am too sleep deprived I will be happy to reply to you tomorrow!

**Author's Note:**

> Guys... what do you think? Is it worth continuing or should I leave it an oneshot?  
> Did I do any justice the soulmate universe? I liked the soulmate au so I took a leap of faith (like Bill did)  
> I am looking forward for your comments and your feedback!  
> Thank you so much


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